Just another Organization 13 A Christmas Carol!
by Seppen13
Summary: My version on a classic tale with your favorite Nobodies. Note: My scrooge is not Xemnas... so you will just have to see who is! Just something for the holidays since I just had to do something. Please enjoy and don't forget to drop a review!
1. Prologue

**Seppen: Ello readers of Fan-fiction! This here, is yet another Charles Dickens "A Christmas Carol" using the Organization members as the characters as well as Namine due to shortage of females. Yes, this has been done previously and already by someone else this year, BUT this version of the story is different as well as my cast!**

**Xaldin: Are you almost done? I want to get this embarrassing play over and done with.**

**Seppen: Love your support, note the sarcasm! You could help a little, it won't kill you.**

**Xaldin: Fine, She does not own Kingdom Hearts or "A Christmas Carol", thank goodness.**

**Seppen: Whatever, I have an authentic script of one of many versions, whoohoo.**

**Xaldin: Someone save us!**

**Seppen: Anyhow, here is the cast for the Prologue!**

Prologue

Old Man...Zexion

Solicitor...Xaldin

Thomas...Roxas

* * *

><p>Snow lightly fell outside, the wind created an icy chill as it whipped around. Lights twinkled from each and every house in anticipation of Christmas. Trees lit windows with their own joyous glow as parents set out for last minute shopping. On a certain doorstep, stood two men, conversing about the weather and other small talk. The younger of the two, a solicitor, pulled his coat tighter around himself as the wind whipped by yet again, turning his cheeks a rosy color. His long dread-like hair flew every which way as he attempted to pull his top hat over the rest. The elder man spoke pleasantly as blue strands of hair covered one of his eyes, strangely on its own rather than by the wind.<p>

"And here you are. These should help you with your fund drive." The elder man said to the solicitor, while he handed the man some envelopes.

"Yes, this should help very much. Thank you, sir–and Merry Christmas" The solicitor replied graciously as he placed the envelopes safely in his coat pocket.

"You're quite welcome." The older gentlemen said as the solicitor left.

The elder man closed the door with great effort a the wind pushed back. With a muffled thud, the door was closed and the man turned around to find his grandson standing there.

"Grandfather, what did you give him?" asked his grandson, a little, spiky-haired boy.

"I gave him a note to take to the grocer so he can purchase food for a Christmas dinner his league is preparing. I also gave one to purchase toys for the children." Explained his grandfather as he relaxed into a recliner after the strenuous task of closing the door.

The little boy pulled the footrest closer to his grandfather as he too sat down.

"Does this mean I'm not getting any toys?" Thomas, asked with innocent blue eyes.

"Not to worry, my boy. I do believe there are many packages with your name on them." His grandfather assured him with a pat of the head.

"But wouldn't I have more if you didn't give so much away?" Thomas asked staring off at the Christmas tree in thought, imagining only the plethora of toys just waiting for him to play with.

"Where's your Christmas spirit, lad? Don't you know it is better to give than receive?" Came the grandfather's mock-shocked voice as he attempted to stifle some laughter.

"But I like toys." Thomas explained, pointing to the little train running around the Christmas tree, making muffled noises as the wheels rolled along the track.

You, I believe, have plenty of toys!" Thomas' grandfather grinned, ruffling Thomas' hair, "There are many children who wouldn't receive any if it wasn't for gifts like ours."

"No presents? Why? Don't their parents buy them presents?" Thomas practically shouted at his grandfather, his eyes large with shock at the thought of no presents.

Thomas jumped up off the footrest in surprise before his grandfather had him sit back down.

"Some of them are not able." His grandfather explained.

"Well, what about their grandparents, then?" Thomas countered.

"Some of them are not able, either" His grandfather added.

"Why?" Thomas questioned, titling his head to the side in curiosity and a bit of naivety.

"There are many that are less fortunate than us." Thomas' grandfather pointed out, moving his hands as he spoke as if to show greater emphasis.

"But that's because you work so hard. And Father works hard, too. Why do you and Father have to work so hard–just to give our money away?" Thomas thought aloud, still confused.

Thomas tried counting on his fingers just how long and hard both his father and grandfather worked, to no avail. After having gave up, he looked back up at his grandfather for a response.

"My boy, it sounds like you need to hear the story of Ebeneezer Scrooge!" his grandfather realized, raising his voice as he spoke.

"Ebeneezer Scrooge? Who's he?" Thomas asked, looking around like Ebeneezer Scrooge would pop out from nowhere, like some long-lost crazy uncle.

"Well, let me see if I can recall his story–it's been many a year since he passed on, and your grandfather's memory isn't what it once was." Thomas' grandfather spoke while making several faces in confusion.

"I think your memory is fine, Grandfather." Thomas laughed as he watched his grandfather with interest.

"Thank you, Thomas. Well, let's see. Ebeneezer Scrooge was a business man so concerned about his situation that it nearly consumed him. He was a very hard worker, even from the beginning –why, he spent so much time at his business that he had no time for family." His grandfather went on, deep in thought.

"No time for family? But you and father have lots of time with us." Thomas shouted in amazement.

"That we do, Thomas–and we enjoy every minute of it," His grandfather assured him, "but Ebeneezer Scrooge did not understand that. Life for him was the pursuit of money. So much so that eventually, he had no feelings for others at all. Why, it didn't bother him a bit if he took advantage of someone for his benefit."

"He doesn't sound like a very nice man." Thomas muttered as he imagined such a person.

"To many he wasn't. And he would have spent his whole life a lonely, bitter man without help." Thomas' grandfather warned as he rubbed his chin.

"But who would help someone like that?" Thomas asked staring at his grandfather.

"Well, maybe I should start at the beginning of Ebeneezer Scrooge's story." Thomas Grandfather smiled before summoning a book with the name 'Ebeneezer Scrooge' written across it in a fancy manuscript.

He opened the book and licked his fingertips as he flipped through the pages to the beginning. His voice took on a dreamy tone that kept Thomas' attention as he began to relay the story of Ebeneezer Scrooge.

AN:

**Seppen: And that is a finished prologue!**

**Zexion: I thought that was the epilogue.**

**Seppen: Sarcasm has been noted.**

**Roxas: Why am I Thomas?**

**Seppen: You are the most innocent Organization member.**

**Roxas: Really?**

**Seppen: Don't worry I had to give some characters other roles due my persistence of only using the Organization, plus Namine, so you are not only Thomas.**

**Roxas: Yeah?**

**Seppen: Good enough.**

**Zexion: Since when could an old man summon a book AND WHY AM I AN OLD MAN! My hair is blue, not gray!**

**Seppen: I'm spicing up the story with a bit of your guys' traits/abilities/etc and that will make sense later, calm down.**

**Roxas: Well, Don't forget to review!**


	2. Act I Scene I

**Seppen: Ello readers! Back again and working full steam ahead in the hopes of finishing this by Christmas!**

**Zexion: Not likely**

**Seppen: Pessimist! As made obvious by my cast list: Luxord is our Scrooge! Hmm, wonder why!**

**Luxord: I resent that!**

**Seppen: I said nothing.**

**Luxord: But you were thinking it!**

**Seppen: Maybe...**

**Demyx: I'm Fred! *begins bouncing around and talking funny***

**Xion: Um Demyx, not _that_ Fred.**

**Demyx: Oh**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Organization, "A Christmas Carol" or any allusions stated in this.**

**Zexion: Oh vocab!**

**Everyone: Be quiet!**

Act I Scene I

Ebeneezer Scrooge...Luxord

Bob Cratchit...Axel

Turley...Lexaeus

Emma...Xion

Lilian...Namine

Fred...Demyx

Old Man...Zexion

Thomas...Roxas

On a late December night, the Eve of Christmas, snow fell lightly from the sky landing on a small rickety sign that swayed in the chilling breeze. Etched in chipping paint, were the words "Ebeneezer Scrooge and Jacob Marley", Marley's name having been crossed out.

Inside this old building sat a young with spiky-red hair, who was rubbing his fingers together in an effort to gain some bit of warmth as his fingers became numb. His emerald eyes glint as he spies the bucket of coal and reaches down to toss one into the fire, adding a small spark to go along with it. Bob turns back to his desk as he picks up a pen and begins to scribble onto a piece of paper.

"So Cratchit, I presume your work is progressing well." Came a somewhat older man with short blonde hair and a bit of facial hair.

"Oh yes sir, Mr. Scrooge, yes sir!" Bob assured Scrooge.

"Good, I don't pay you to dawdle. I pay you a good wage to do good work!" Scrooge began ranting.

"Yes, Mr. Scrooge." Bob agreed, nodding his head.

"Cratchit!" Scrooge shouted as he took his long coat off and hanging it on a small coat rack nearby.

"Yes, Mr. Scrooge?" Bob asked.

"It feels overly warm in here, Cratchit!" Scrooge growled, eying the pail of coal seated at Bob's feet, "and there appears to be a lump of coal missing!"

"Ahhh... Well, sir... I... ahhh." Bob stuttered.

"Frivolously wasting my hard earned money again, I see. I shall deduct the cost of one lump of coal from your salary." Scrooge grumbled, narrowing his eyes at Bob as if he were a small child caught in the act of stealing a cookie.

"Yes sir, Mr. Scrooge. Very good, sir." Bob replied dejectedly as he looked away.

The front door opened as several orphans walked in, a some-what tall man following behind as they sang happily.

"Here we come a-caroling among the leaves so green,

Here we come a-caroling, so fair to be seen.

Love and joy come to you, and to you glad Christmas too.

And God bless you and send you a happy new year,

And God send you a happy new year." The orphans sang, each one harmonizing the other.

The orphans clothing were mere rags compared to that of even Bob's worn attire. The grins they gave; however, held the last shreds of hope as many young children often hold. The man with them wore a long coat and a worn hat with several patches sewn on. The condition in which the group lived were quiet obvious.

"Here we come a-caroling! Bah, humbug! More like here we come a-bothering, you little urchins!That's what you are doing_bothering two working men. Why, look what you have done to my fool clerk." Scrooge spat at the children, before everyone turned to look at Bob.

"And God send you a happy... Huh?" Bod sang before noticing the sudden silence, "oh, dear!"

"I shall deduct one quarter hour pay from your pay for that, Cratchit!" Scrooge growled.

"Oh. Yes sir, Mr. Scrooge... very good sir." Bob replied, looking down at his work.

"And as for the likes of you... BEGONE!" Scrooge yelled as the orphans ran to hide behind Mr. Turley. "Foolish nonsense–this Christmas is, singing songs, making merry. Bah humbug! What, pray tell, can I do for you? Shouldn't you be wandering along to bother someone who isn't busy with work?"

"Quite probably, sir, but I –." Mr Turley said before being interrupted by Scrooge.

"And who are you, anyway... are you a customer?" Scrooge asked with slight interest.

"No sir, I am Mr. Turley, caretaker and handyman at St. Beatrice's Orphanage." Mr Turley explained proudly.

"I didn't think you were a customer. I recognize my customers." Scrooge said turning to Bob, "and why is that, Cratchit?"

"Because they owe you money, sir?" Bob replied, a bit unsure under Scrooge's scrutiny.

"Yes! Because they owe me money. Now get back to work, Cratchit!" Scrooge then turned back to Mr. Turley, "My father taught me to never trust anyone who owes you money! Now, what can I do for you? Are you here for a loan?"

"No sir, I don't require a loan, sir." Mr. Turley replied.

"If you don't owe me money and don't require a loan, why, pray tell, are you here?" Scrooge asked impatiently.

"Well, sir. It is the Christmas season, sir. And... well... the orphans could use a good Christmas dinner... some clothes... and a few toys, sir." Mr. Turley explained sheepishly as the orphans peeked around from behind his back, giving sad looks.

"So... the orphans want a fancy Christmas feast. And toys. And since you are not here for a loan, am I to assume that I am just to give you the funds to purchase these items?" Scrooge questioned with the raising of a brow.

"Well, yes, sir. That would be very nice,sir!" Mr. Turley remarked hopefully as the orphans looked from one another with large grins.

"Yes, I suppose it would. Well, Mr. Turley, I shall tell you what I shall do. I shall give the orphans something. Something indeed!" Scrooge explained as the orphans moved closer towards him in anticipation.

"Oh, thank you, sir." Mr. Turley smiled.

"I shall give them..." The orphans stood close to Scrooge now, "some advice my father gave me when I was young." The orphans looked from one another in confusion as they stepped closer to hear Scrooge better. "GET A JOB!"

The orphans scurried back behind Mr. Turley, the youngest shaking as they looked back at Scrooge.

"But sir... they're orphans!" Mr. Turley pleaded.

"That is of no concern of mine–they look employable." Scrooge sneered.

"But they are so young." Mr. Turley explained.

"Again, that is of no concern of mine. Good day, Mr. Turley!" Scrooge said interrupting Mr. Turley.

"Oh, dear... whatever am I to tell Sister Angeline when I come home empty-handed?" Mr. Turley thought to himself.

"But don't you care what happens to us, mister?" a dark haired girl asked, Emma.

"Yes, mister... don't you care?" a blonde girl, Lilian asked as the two moved closer to Scrooge with pleading eyes.

"Care? Why should I care about you? Humbug! Does anyone care about me? Now, be gone!" Scrooge hollered, resulting in the orphans running back behind Mr. Turley.

"I care about you Uncle! Merry Christmas!" came a young man as he cheerily stepped into small room.

The young man's attire was much more lavish than that of even Scrooge. Though there was a slight resemblance between the two, their demeanor's created a larger difference. The young man, Fred, smiled graciously to everyone as he l pulled off his hat to reveal a blonde mullet.

""Fred. Am I to be plagued with fools today?" Scrooge groaned to himself.

"I didn't mean to overhear your conversation, Mr. Turley, but I'm afraid I did–and while my Uncle Scrooge cannot seem to part with any of his own wealth, I am not afraid to part with some of my own." Fred grinned as he reached into his coat pocket and handed Mr. Turley some coins, "There you are–and Marry Christmas!"

"Thank you kindly, sir–and Merry Christmas to you, good fellow." Mr. Turley thanked, looking over the handful of coins before putting them in his pocket for safe keeping.

"I only wish it could be more, but I don't have the resources that my dear uncle has." Fred replied, glancing over at Scrooge.

"Everything helps–our thanks again. Now, come along, children, I must go tell Sister Angeline the progress of my collecting." Mr. Turley pauses for a moment. "Lord above, give me strength!"

Just as Mr. Turley is leaving, Bob slips away and hands him some money. All the while, Fred distracts Scrooge before Bob slips, unnoticed, back into his seat.

"So Uncle, you still haven't been bitten by the holiday spirit, I see." Fred laughed jokingly.

"I prefer not to be bitten by anything that turns me into an idiot! Christmas... Bah Humbug!" Scrooge spat.

"I'm sure you don't mean that." Fred commented.

"Oh–mean it I do." Scrooge assured Fred.

"Why do you have to be so gloomy, uncle? Why certainly you're rich enough–you could be more cheerful." Fred asked honestly.

"And you, nephew, are cheerful enough... to be quite the fool." Scrooge grumbled as he tried to pull away.

"And what makes me so foolish?" Fred smiled.

"Just look at yourself. 'Merry Christmas' this, and 'Merry Christmas' that. And giving away your money without a care." Scrooge explained.

"Ah, but I do care, Uncle–that's why I share my money the year-round. It's just that during the holidays, there's more need, and so... I am more generous!" Fred replied joyously.

"And what does that gain you? A trip to the poor house, I daresay!" Scrooge commented.

""Now, now, giving away a bit of your money does much more good than keeping it! And one doesn't have to give just money–why, my wife, Elizabeth, and I regularly donate our time to help the needy." Fred went on.

"First you give away your money, then you spend your time–time that should be spent earning a living–on worthless endeavors as well? Where is the profit in that?" Scrooge asked, scratching his chin in thought.

"Uncle Scrooge, there is more to this life than the pursuit of profit! And Christmas above all other times should show that to everyone. Why, what a time to reflect upon what we have and share those gifts with others" Fred said as he moves towards Bob, "even if it is just a good laugh and warm handshake," Fred says as he shakes Bob's hand, "while wishing someone a Merry Christmas. Yes, Christmas has not done much for padding my wallet, but it certainly has padded my heart!"

"Oh yes, very good, sir. Very good, indeed!" Bob remarked, clapping his hands.

""Cratchit! Another outburst like that and you shall spend your Christmas seeking other employment!" Scrooge shouted as he walked over to Bob.

"You shall do nothing of the sort, Uncle!, " moving Scrooge away from Bob, Fred continues, "Come dine with us tomorrow."

"Dine with you? Why... have you given away so much money that you need someone to pay for your precious Christmas dinner?" Scrooge grumbled.

"Uncle! Elizabeth and I wish for you to join us for dinner." Fred explained with a gracious smile.

"I think not–I shall be working." Scrooge spat as he pulled away from Fred.

"But it's Christmas–must you work on Christmas?" Fred asked sadly.

"You celebrate by having a feast. I will celebrate by improving my business situation." Scrooge huffed, turning away to examine some paperwork.

""That is no way to celebrate Christmas, Uncle!" Fred disagreed.

"Good day, nephew." Scrooge muttered.

""My wife is expecting you – she is a wonderful cook, you know. And we have many games planned." Fred tried.

"Good day!" Scrooge shouted, attempting to push Fred out of the door.

"Well, the offer still stands. Merry Christmas, Uncle Scrooge." Fred remarked.

"GOOD DAY!" Scrooge shouted.

"And Merry Christmas to you, too, Mr. Cratchit. Oh... and Uncle...," Fred yelled back as he walked out the building, "Happy New Year!"

Laughter filtered into the room, become quieter the farther Fred walked from the building.

""Idiot! That's what my sister, Fan, bore–an idiot." Scrooge looks over to find Bob smiling to himself. "And what do you think you are doing?"

"It is seven o'clock, sir... my day is finished, sir." Bob replied, a tad bit hesitant.

Scrooge begins searching his pockets for his watch, soon realizing that the watch is gone.

"Blasted watch went missing–let me see that!" Scrooge grabs Bob by the arm and looks at the watch, "seven-o-one. You are quite close with your timing, Cratchit." Scrooge sneered.

"Yes, sir." Cratchit nodded.

Scrooge releases Cratchit's arm and walks over to his desk where he proceeds to grab a bag of gold coins. Taking his sweet time, Scrooge counts the money on the desk, Bob watching in anticipation.

"Nine... and ten." Scrooge picks the tenth piece back up and after drawing extra attention to it continues, "And this should suffice for the lump of coal and singing on the job. There you are, Cratchit."

"Thank you, Mr. Scrooge... and about tomorrow, sir?' Bob asks sheepishly.

"I suppose you think you deserve the whole day off." Scrooge stated rather than asked.

"Well, I was hoping, sir." Bob interjected.

"And tell me that you won't feel a bit of guilt – feasting at home, giving lavish gifts to your wife and children, knowing that there is work to be done! Christmas! What an injustice to an employer!" Scrooge grumbled.

"Yes, sir" Bob agreed.

"So... you will be into work tomorrow." Scrooge commented.

"Yes, sir... I mean no, sir. Well, sir... I... I promised my wife that we would take the children to Christmas services and then..." Bob stammered as he tried to collect his thoughts, all the while Scrooge tapped his feet on the ground.

"I thought as much. Well you can have your day off! But you best not be late the next morning!" Scrooge warned, narrowing his eyes at Bob.

"Yes, sir... I will be on time, sir. Thank you, sir." Bob began collecting what meager belongings he had: a worn hat and an old coat. Bob walks out the door, but did not disappear until after he said "Merry Christmas, Mr. Scrooge."

Scrooge was left alone, fuming to himself.

"Blasted Cratchit! If I hadn't collected his pay, I'd dock him a quarter-hour pay for that comment. Merry Christmas! Bah humbug!" Scrooge grumbled to himself, while grabbing his coat and hat.

Scrooge slammed the door shut before locking it and going on his way.

"He wasn't a very nice man. Was he that mean to everyone?" Thomas asked, looking up at his grandfather.

"Ebeneezer Scrooge wasn't a kind person to be around–or work for." Thomas's grandfather concluded.

"Why would anyone work for someone so mean?" Thomas asked innocently.

"There were few jobs available the for poor people. If you were fortunate enough to have one, you id everything you could to keep it." His grandfather explained.

"Even work for someone like him?" Thomas asked.

"Even to work for someone like him." His grandfather nodded.

"Well, I'd never do it." Thomas said, acting tough.

"I hope you never have to work for someone like Mr. Scrooge. And, if you become an employer when you grow up, say after you take over my business from your father, I hope you treat your employees with respect." Thomas' grandfather stressed.

"I will, Grandfather." Thomas promised with a grin.

"I'm sure you will, Thomas." His grandfather grinned back.

"But if he was so mean to everyone, who helped him?" Thomas questioned, ever curious.

"I shall continue with the story." His grandfather replied, flipping to the next page in the book.

AN:

**Seppen: Such a long act, and the next one is super short, heh.**

**Zexion: Well it is mostly comprises of...**

***slaps hand over mouth***

**Seppen: not a word from you**

**Demyx: Lexaeus speaks?**

**Seppen: Yeah... the role sounded like him besides the constant chatter oh well.**

**Demyx: Wait! Who is my wife?**

**Seppen: Wait and see!**

**Axel: Well, then, who is mine?**

**Seppen: Patience is key, young grasshopper.**

**Larxene: WHAT DID YOU SAY!**

**Seppen: uh um, please review? They are as welcomed as a white Christmas!**


	3. Act I Scene II

**Seppen: Ello people! This little chappie is incredibly short and was not grouped with another merely due to the fact all chapters near it are so dang long.**

**Xion: Eh hem**

**Seppen: Oh yeah, Thank you Sonicdisney for the review, I am incredibly sorry for not having thanked you previously, I just have a lot on my mind lately.**

**Xion: Before she forgets; Seppen does not own the Organization or "A Christmas Carol".**

**Seppen: Thanks, now without further adieu.**

Act I Scene II

Ebeneezer Scrooge...Luxord

Mr. Dilber...Vexen

Ebeneezer Scrooge lived in a once extravagant home, far larger than any other. Regardless of Ebeneezer's vast fortune, he chose to merely keep the few rooms he used, clean and moderately up-to-date. The task of cleaning these rooms landed in the hands of Mr. Dilber, whom did these chores reluctantly and mildly efficient.

The snow seemed to fall thicker now and the streets became empty as pedestrians wandered home, hugging one another close in an effort to find warmth. Ebeneezer Scrooge; however, walked with purpose and his head held high as he walked down street after street towards his home.

"Fifteen years! Fifteen years I've been cookin' and cleanin' for the unpleasant bugger. An' for what? A paltry pittance of a wage that wouldn't fatten a church mouse. Ever a 'nice job polishing the silver, Mr. Dilber'? No! Ever a 'wonderful stew and, by the way, your biscuits were marvelous, Mr. Dilber'? Oh, heaven forbid that would ever happen!" Came Mr. Dilber's voice as he began ranting to himself, all the while cleaning Scrooge's room.

Mr. Dilber rubbed his numb hands together, his old gloves ripped in too many places to offer much warmth. As Mr. Dilber sighed, a puff of air rose and he narrowed his eyes as he continued to think of his employer. He rubbed his arms together, unable to afford even a simple jacket with his meager pay.

"I don't think me poor heart could take the strain of that! And perish the thought of a Christmas bonus! Ha! The only bonus I get is to have 'im a warm bowl of gruel ready for 'is Christmas breakfast! Why, if it wasn't for me eight grubby mouths to feed and a wife who thinks a pint of ale is better than a job, I'd tell Mr. scrooge what 'e could do with his stew and biscuits!" Mr. Dilber grumbled to himself as he began making the bed, before stopping and sitting down to continue his rant.

"And now here it is, the twenty-fourth of December, the night before our dear Lord and Savior's birth– and 'e wants me to make 'im stew!"

'And a nice hearty beef stew on my nightstand for when I retire tonight, Mr. Dilber.' Mr Dilber mimicked with a sneer.

"Well, beef stew indeed! The fool wouldn't know beef stew if it butted 'im in the behind! Hah! It's mutton for 'im–and a poor grade at that! Me butcher knows–a package of old mutton for the skinflint, and the rest of the supper allowance in glorious beef for me! Pick a few moldy turnips and scrape up some mealy flour left behind at the market–and the old crow's supper is complete. Some think it be stealin', but I'm just following me dear mum's advice. The very advice she gave me when she got old Scrooge to hire me. She said 'Now 'e's a rich one, lad–and they're the worst lot to work for! Never a thank e,' never a bonus or increase in pay. But don't you never mind that–you look after yourself, lad – them rich folk have so many things, they just don't notice when a few of 'em go missin' on occasion!' An look after meself, I have! A bit of beef here," Mr. Dilber lifted a pair of sugar tongs from his pocket, "a sugar tongs there and me babies mouths are fed. And as for me Christmas bonus," Mr. Dilber smiled as he pulled out Scrooge's missing pocket watch.

"Mr. Dilber! I am home! And I expect my stew on the nightstand after I'm freshened up from the day!" Scrooge yelled from the staircase in an annoyed tone.

"Oh dear Lord in heaven – 'e's home!" Mr. Dilber dropped the watch and sugar tongs as he ran back and forth in the room, confused as what to do,"An' me without 'is stew on the nightstand."

Mr. Dilber was about to exit the room when he remembered the sugar tongs and pocket-watch. He kicked them under the bed and pulled the comforter over to hide them while he turned to leave.

"Yes, Mr. Scrooge – yer stew will be waiting for you when yer ready!" Mr. Dilber hollered downstairs as he glanced back at the room before running to the kitchen.

AN:

**Seppen: Like I said, very short.**

***puts on earphones***

**Xion: What are you doing?**

**Seppen: *hums Christmas songs***

**Xion: Seppen?**

**Vexen: SEPPEN! WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?**

**Seppen: *pulls out one side of the earphones* heh, Mr. Dilber was originally Mrs. Dilber for those that didn't know, but the role fit when it comes to his long rants and complaining, blah blah blah...**

**Vexen: *fuming***

**Seppen: Well, gotta go!**

**Xion: Don't forget to please drop a review, much appreciated!**


	4. Act I Scene III

**Seppen: Ello! I'm still alive, and Vexen is still mad. What's new? I really hate monologues, they're so long.**

**Vexen: How dare you give me a female role!**

**Seppen: Get over it! The role has a lot of lines, be grateful!**

**Vexen: Disrespect!**

**Seppen: That's it! *pulls out stick and hits him upside the head***

**Vexen: *unconscious* X.X**

**Seppen: Okay, now as usual I own nothing in regards to the Organization or "A Christmas Carol"**

Act I Scene III

Ebeneezer Scrooge...Luxord

Jacob Marley...Xemnas

Scrooge sat in his nightshirt on his bed as he slowly ate his gruel. A look of disgust crossed his face with each spoonful.

"Fools! Confounded fools! A man works hard for his money and fools want you to give it to the poor and needy. They wouldn't be poor and needy if they worked like any good man should. Humbug!" Scrooge grumbled as a noise sounded from under his bed.

Scrooge rises and looks around his room for anything that might have caused the noise, all the while scratching his chin.

"Huh? What was that? Harrumph! It was nothing," Scrooge says to himself as he sits back down on his bed, "nothing but humbug!"

A rattling of chains sounds and dust rises from behind Scrooge.

"What? What is happening?" Scrooge questioned as he rose from his bed and looks around, not having noticed the dust.

"Has my supper been poisoned?" Scrooge asked looking down at his gruel, "nothing–simply nothing."

Scrooge settles back down, completely ignoring the dust as it multiplies in the air behind him.

"All of the fools bothering me for my money have just gotten to me. I'm just tired and hungry." Scrooge muttered to himself.

Chains began rattling louder and the dust finally reached Scrooge as he jerked around to find his bed shaking. Scrooge rises and backs away from his bed, fear written across his face.

"What? Is someone there? Is someone under my bed?" Scrooge asked, continuing to back away.

From under the bed, a hand reaches out and grasps the bed post, pulling itself out from under the bed. The rattling increases as a form rises from the ground, nearly tripping over himself. The stranger appears to be wearing a very old suit and bandages which are wrapped around his head. His hair is gray, quite possibly due to all of the dust flying around, which seems to be caked all over his suit and hair. His skin, although surprisingly tan, is also covered in dust, giving him an older appearance. The chains, which seem to be wrapped on both his arms and legs, rattle as they clatter to the floor.

"My God, man! Who is your housekeeper? It's been a very, very long time since he has dusted under your bed." The stranger says as he brushes himself off, coughing as he breaths in the dust.

"Who? Who and what are you? And what were you doing under my bed!" Scrooge asks, his voice wavering as he speaks.

"Coughing myself silly, I do believe. I do have allergies, you know. And why do you keep you good silver sugar tongs and pocket watch under there?" The stranger asked, holding up the comforter so that Scrooge could see said objects.

"My pocket watch is under there? I've been missing that since this morning," Scrooge mutters as he reaches down to retrieve his belongings, "Yes, yes, it's quite obvious that my housekeeper isn't the best. Now, you still haven't explained what you were doing under my bed."

"Why waiting for you." comes the stranger replies as he moves closer to Scrooge, his chains catching onto the bed.

"For me! Are you here to rob me!" Scrooge asks, backing away.

"No." The stranger laughs.

In a defensive tone, Scrooge replies, "You're not here asking me for money like everyone else during this... festive season, are you?"

"Heaven's no–I'm here to save you!" The man replied, laughing to himself.

"Save me? Save me from what?" Scrooge asked, perplexed.

"Why, from yourself." the man replied matter-o-factly.

"Myself?" Scrooge repeated.

"Yes... yourself." he replied, nodding his head.

"Why would one need saving from himself?" Scrooge asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, dear. I'm afraid this is going to be much harder than I originally thought." The stranger mumbled to himself.

""What's going to be harder?" Scrooge questioned.

"Saving you–from yourself. You really do need help, you know." The man explained.

"I need help from no one! Save me from myself! What nonsense! What humbug! Why, if anyone needs help, it's you. Why, look at yourself Dirty suit, bandages, chains–how can you go about in public looking like that? Scrooge muttered.

"Well, I did actually tidy up a bit before coming to visit." The man replies defensively before sniffing around for a peculiar scent, " Oh, dear, it seems I did forget to brush–sorry about that! Now, the suit was clean–well, seven years ago it was clean. Can't do much about the chains."

"Why not?"

"Because they are a part of who I am. Or was, rather." the man explains, holding up the chains.

"Was? What do you mean was? Who are you?" Scrooge asked.

"Ask me who I was!" the man says dramatically.

"Didn't I just do that?" Scrooge questioned.

"Yes – I've always wanted to say 'Ask me who I was.' Worked on how to say it for seven odd years now." The man replied, before he began repeating 'ask me who I was' in several different styles.

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Who were you?" Scrooge asked a bit impatient.

"Oh yes." He starts speaking in a dramatic tone as he continues, "In life, I was your partner, Jacob Marley."

"Jacob? No, it can't be. Jacob Marley is dead. Died seven years ago. Why, seven years ago..."

"This very night?" Jacob finished.

"Yes... this very night. But no, it can't be Jacob–I'd recognize Jacob anywhere, even the spirit of Jacob. Thought you do have his teeth–I always told him that drinking tea with milk and sugar would do that to his teeth." Scrooge muttered to himself.

"Why do you doubt what you see? Was this not the suit you buried me in?" Jacob asked, motioning with his hands the suit.

"No... you can't be Jacob Marley. Why, you can't be here at all. It has to be the stew. My housekeeper not only doesn't dust under my bed, he's trying to poison me with his cooking." Scrooge concluded.

"You don't believe in me?"

"No, I don't believe you're here at all. You are just a figment of my imagination–the effects of my housekeeper's poisonous stew. Why, you are just a bit of tainted beef – or moldy potato. Or just too much mustard. Infernal being, he knows I hate mustard! No, you are nothing but humbug!" Scrooge went on.

"Humbug, huh. All those years of working beside a man–gone for a few years and all of the sudden you're 'humbug'. Well, I didn't expect this would be easy." Jacob thought to himself, "Ebeneezer Scrooge! Do you believe in me or not?"

"Yes! Yes! I do...I must. But why do spirits walk the earth? And why do they bother me?" Scrooge asked, having been frightened by Jacob's sudden dire expression.

"Because it is required of me. Every man must atone for his life. Those who kept there hearts closed in life are forced to walk amongst their fellow man in death. I am forced for eternity to see the things I could have done, witness the happiness that I could have affected!" Jacob went on.

"Jacob, what on earth are you talking about? And why are you wearing chains?"

"Fool. You don't see do you? These are the chains I have forged in life! Every link a business deal I brokered to my –our– benefit at the expense of other, or a deed I left undone that would have helped my fellow man. Now I am forced to wear them forever!" Jacob ranted as he shook his chains for good measure.

"And the bandages?" Scrooge asked, pointing at Jacob's bandages.

"Oh, I just like that–it keep my hair from falling out!" Jacob smirked.

"But Jacob–remember all of the money we made? And the fun we had doing it? Why, remember O'Malley's Bakery? How we closed him down in mid-pastry when he was four days late with his loan payment?" Scrooge asked.

"He made the tastiest pastries." Jacob replied in a sheepish tone.

"And that ramshackle house we foreclosed on. Why, we laughed so hard, we had tears running down our faces, kicking that old couple out. Remember? We sold that for three times what it was worth to an orphanage!" Scrooge laughed as he hooked an arm around Jacob's shoulder.

"Yes, we did make a tidy sum on that deal." Jacob agrees with a pained look on his face.

"And remember the..." Scrooge was saying before Jacob interrupted him by tripping over his chains and nearly pulling Scrooge down with him.

"Do you not see? It was dealings like that which forged these chains and now... at this time of the year, I suffer the most–when I should be enjoying the gladness of the season, I cannot because I refused to embrace it in life." Jacob replied, in a depressed manner.

"Gladness of the season! Bah, humbug!" Scrooge retorted in a bitter tone.

"Humbug? Are you blind man? This is the chain that I forged in my lifetime. Do you have any idea what yours looks like? Why, you've had seven more years to work on yours." Jacob warned, rattling in chains in exaggeration.

"Is this why you are here? To tell me my chain is bigger than yours?" Scrooge asked, perplexed.

"No! I am here to save you from my fate. I am here to tell you that you still have a chance and a hope to save yourself from this!" Jacob says as he nearly trips on his chains yet again.

"From hurting yourself?"Scrooge asked, still missing what Jacob was saying.

"No, from walking the earth as a shadow, constantly tormented by these infernal chains!" Jacob shouted.

"Well, how do you expect me to do this, Jacob?" Scrooge questioned.

"Tonight, you will be haunted by three spirits." Jacob explained.

"More spirits? Did you say three more spirits?" Scrooge asked as if he were going deaf, "is this the chance and the hope you say I have?"

"Yes." Jacob nodded.

"Well... then, I think I'd rather not." Scrooge said, scratching his chin.

"Fool! Without their visits, you, too, will be fettered like me. Now, you will be visited by three spirits. Expect the first when the clock strikes one. The second shall follow after the first. The third shall follow the second. Look to see me no more, but remember, Ebeneezer, what has passed between us." Jacob warned as he disappeared back under Scrooge's bed.

Scrooge walked over to his bed and peered under, but was unable to find any trace of Jacob. After looking everywhere else, Scrooge retired back to his bed and soon fell asleep.

AN:

**Seppen: Alright then, this was supposed to be finished by Christmas, but due to computer malfunctioning and other things I will be updating every now and then as time is very busy for me. Hope you had a Merry Christmas, until next time.**


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